


The Dog Ate My 20 Questions--Blogger

by jdrush



Series: 20 Questions [8]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Dialogue-Only, Humour, M/M, minor stage directions, terrible name puns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-09 18:52:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11675031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdrush/pseuds/jdrush
Summary: Tip for the day--spell-check can be your friend.  Yet another trip to the 20 Questions universe.





	The Dog Ate My 20 Questions--Blogger

TITLE: The Dog Ate My 20 Questions--Blogger  
AUTHOR: J.D. Rush  
FANDOM: Sherlock BBC1  
PAIRING: All Sherlock/John, all the time.  
RATING: PG-13 for language, boy-kissing and suggestive M/M affection  
SUMMARY: Tip for the day--spell-check can be your friend. Yet another trip to the 20 Questions universe.  
DISCLAIMER: These lovely boys belong to BBC1, Moffat and Gatiss, and Sir A.C. Doyle. And an itty bitty line stolen, ahhhh, borrowed from The X-Files episode, “Small Potatoes”. (You fans will get the joke.)  
AUTHOR‘S NOTE: I’ve had a pretty serious case of writer’s block lately, so I thought I’d share the pain with the good doctor. John is me, and I am he and we are all together.

 

*deep sigh* “God, this is frustrating!”

“Hmmm?”

“I have absolutely no idea what to write.”

“You say something?”

“My blog. What to write.”

*looks up from his microscope* “Just write up a case, like you always do. There's no reason why you should deviate from your usual twaddle.”

“We haven’t had any interesting cases recently.”

*bitter huff* “Don’t I know it. The criminals of this city have been annoyingly dull of late, but there are surely some older cases that are worthwhile.”

“Well, I WAS thinking of perhaps the Dinkins one.”

*dangerous glare* “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I know, you said to never tell that one but I thought. . .”

“What part of ‘on pain of death’ did you not understand?”

“But it was a great case, Sherlock. Lots of adventure and intrigue and twists. . .”

“John, I’m sure even you can understand how it would destroy my credibility if the world knew I had gone undercover as a child‘s party clown.”

“But you caught a killer. Isn’t that all that matters?”

“Except knowing you, you’ll get wrapped up in all the florid overwritten details of my disguise and forget to include the actual pertinent facts of the case.”

“I could just post a picture.”

“I could just find another flatmate.”

*snorts derisively* “Not bloody likely.”

“There’s always the Edmundson heist.”

“I hardly think a nicked pair of pinking shears could be considered a ’heist’.”

“AH! But during the investigation, I also determined that Mr. Edmundson wasn’t the father of his two children AND that his sister was cheating on her taxes.”

“I can’t believe you’re proud that you ruined a man’s marriage and sent one of his siblings to prison.”

*sulky pout* “YOU wouldn’t have figured it out.”

*pushes away from desk* “You know what? I think I’m going to go out for a walk, clear my head. Maybe something will come to me.”

*Sherlock strolls over and drapes himself seductively across John’s lap* “Actually, I have a much better way to ‘clear your head‘, if you’re interested.” *kisses John passionately as long, slender fingers slip between John’s legs*

*deep, breathy sigh* “Dear God, yes!”

 

THE NEXT MORNING--Sherlock sitting at the desk; John in the kitchen cooking:

 

“John, may I see you for a moment? I’ve got something to show you.”

“It doesn’t have anything to do with gruesome experiments on errant body parts, does it? I haven’t had breakfast yet.”

“Just come here.”

*John goes over to Sherlock, who is hunched over his laptop. He turns the screen around so John can see the webpage*

“That’s my blog.”

“Astute observation, Doctor Watson.”

“And. . .?”

“I see you’ve overcome your writers’ block.”

*proudly* “Yeah. It came to me in my sleep. Wrote it up this morning.”

“Well, that explains a lot.”

“Explains what, exactly?”

*nose wrinkles in distaste* “Your appalling oeuvre.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Considering it was a rush job, it came out pretty good.”

“I fail to see how you came to that conclusion.”

“At the very least it doesn’t involve you and a red rubber nose.”

“For which I am eternally grateful. However. . .”

*disappointed* “Didn’t you like ‘The Case of the Crafty Carpenter’?” 

*exaggerated shudder* “Just when I thought they couldn’t get any worse.”

“I liked that name. I thought it rather clever.”

“Puns are the lowest form of humour, John, but that’s not the problem.”

“Did I get something wrong about the case again?”

“Many things. But that’s neither here nor there.”

*exasperated* “Then please get to the point, Sherlock. My eggs are getting cold.”

“You spelled my name wrong.”

“I did?”

“It says ‘Shercock’.”

*genuine surprise* “No!”

“I assure you it does.”

“I’m sure it was just a typo. . .”

“Twice.”

*rubs back of neck, brow furrowed* “Well, you know I’m rubbish with a keyboard. . .”

“And a ‘Sherlick’.”

*chuckles nervously* “Freudian slip?”

“Do I dare mention the ‘Sherfuck’?”

*indignant* “You’re lying.“ 

*points to screen* “I think not.”

“You. . .you changed that.”

“Why would I POSSIBLY do that?”

“A joke. To have one over on me. Embarrass me for some reason known only to you.”

*crosses arms across chest; superior air* “And in the process of embarrassing you I turn myself into a laughingstock. Do you see the flaw in your logic here?”

“Well, I can fix it. . .”

“You should see some of the comments. . .”

“Probably not a good idea.”

"Harry’s were especially amusing.”

“I’m sure.”

“If a bit graphic.”

“I can only imagine.”

“No, I don’t think you can. Poor Mrs. Hudson is probably scarred for life.”

*getting huffy* “Look, it’s not MY fault you don’t have a normal name like William or David or. . . or. . .”

“John.”

“Yes. Normal, dull, boring ‘John’. Not much you can do to screw that up.”

“You could have just spell-checked the document, you know. That’s what the button is there for.”

“It doesn’t work on unusual proper names. Yours ALWAYS comes up as a misspelling. I couldn't have known the sodding thing really WAS wrong this time!”

“There are ways of correcting that, such as customizing your dictionary. . .”

“Customizing my what?”

*theatrical sigh* “That’s right. I forgot who I was talking to.”

“I apologize I’m not Bill Gates. I'm lucky I can turn the bleeding thing on.”

“And yet you write a blog for the whole world to see. Amazing times we live in.”

*resigned sigh, knowing he’s lost yet another disagreement* “Okay, let’s get this over with. I’m sorry I misspelled your name and caused you any mental anguish. And if you’ll do that customize thing for me, we can hopefully avoid this happening again in the future. ’kay?”

*smug smile* “Of course. Easy enough. Or I can just proof-read your entries before you post them.”

“No, thank you. You’ll just write ’wrong’ a hundred times over it again.”

“It wasn’t a hundred times.”

“Or you’ll add in your own opinions.”

*haughty* “Forgive me for trying to improve your craft.”

“ ‘This is complete bollocks’ is not really creative criticism.”

“But honest.”

“If you don’t like it, write up the cases on YOUR website.”

“Boring. Besides, you’re my blogger. Although I’m not sure what is good about having a blogger who can’t spell your name.”

“I said I’m sorry. And I’ll fix it after breakfast.”

“Your eggs are cold by now.”

“Yes, yes. . .I’m sure they are.”

“I wouldn’t mind a cup of tea.”

“Then make it yourself.”

“That’s not very nice, considering how I’ve been slandered.”

“Slan. . .for the last time, Sherlock, I’m sorry! Can we drop this?”

“Fine.”

“Fine.” *looks again at screen, shaking head* “I just don’t know how I did that. My mind must’ve been somewhere else. Hardly surprising after last night.”

*innocently* “So are you saying you don’t want me to Sherlick your Shercock before I Sherfuck you tonight?”

“Piss off.”

 

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> I'm slowly reposting my old stories to this AO3 account. This was first posted to my livejournal May, 2011.


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